


Doubles

by poorly_animated



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poorly_animated/pseuds/poorly_animated
Summary: The Phantom Troupe prepares their fake corpses for the Mafia before the Yorknew Auction.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Doubles

Kortopi coughed lightly. It was time. 

The night air suddenly felt much colder on Pakunoda’s fingers as she raised her guns. Six bodies sat in front of her. She closed her eyes and fired. 

Chrollo watched the bullets enter his body without flinching. How odd to see his chest explode from twenty feet away, how odd to watch blood pour from wounds he couldn’t feel. Kortopi’s copies were flawless. He’d carried his duplicate in his arms from the auction hall to the back alley, wanting to feel his own weight. The fake body had been lighter than expected. He’d looked down at his open eyes and wondered if he’d always been so gaunt—did the other Spiders see him as such a frail creature? His own eyes had stared back at him, unable to answer. Those same eyes tilted sideways as the copy of his body slumped against the wall. Chrollo touched the cut on his cheek, his real cheek, and silently drew a drop of blood to his lips, letting the metallic taste remind him which body was alive. Pakunoda’s pistols clicked and he glanced at her, noticing for the first time that she’d been firing blind. 

“Thank you, Pakunoda.”

“Of course, Danchou.” 

Her voice was husky and dark, the words barely loud enough to hear. She didn’t look at the bodies. Chrollo took a deep breath and nodded to the others. 

“These don’t look very convincing. Everyone’s corpses should look like mine, as though you just got out of a fight. Go ahead.” 

For a moment, nobody moved. Chrollo turned back to his body and walked towards it slowly. He kicked himself in the stomach. His body made a soft, wet sound. He kicked again, and again, until a hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Shalnark frowning. 

“It looks dead enough,” he said quietly. 

Chrollo nodded and stepped back. He caught a slight tremor in Shalnark’s hands as the blonde looked at his duplicate. He sighed. He should’ve anticipated this might be difficult. Before he could speak, however, a sharp breeze blew past him in a familiar shape. Feitan plunged his sword into his own back, drawing it out slowly. Blood pooled out under his black hair. Phinks stifled a sound a second too late, drawing Chrollo’s attention. Feitan turned and wiped his blade. He glided back to the others silently. Chrollo nodded. The other Feitan continued to bleed, staining an area of grass nearly the size of the small body. Heavy footsteps fell beside him and Chrollo turned to see Phinks approaching, his eyes glued to Feitan’s fake corpse. 

“He... he looks like he’s sleeping,” the blonde choked after a second. Chrollo nodded. 

“His face is uninjured. Do you mind?” 

Phinks stared at Chrollo like he was crazy for a split second before stepping back. 

“I do, actually. Franklin, mind if I hit yours?” 

The big man chuckled and nodded. Phinks wound his arm up and punched his body through the wall, bringing down jagged chunks of concrete that ripped the other Franklin’s shoulders. Chrollo frowned and faced the rest. 

“We don’t have much time.”

Machi sighed and stepped up, giving the dead Feitan a quick kick to the face. Pakunoda covered her mouth but her eyes gave away her laughter. Feitan glared at Machi for a second before walking over and cracking her double’s skull. They both looked at each other and then at Chrollo, unsure if they were going to laugh. Machi shrugged and walked back to Pakunoda. She took one of her hands and pressed it to her lips, tugging her back into the building. Feitan scoffed lightly and punched her copy again. Red blossomed in her pink hair. Phinks stood from where he’d broken the other Franklin’s nose and frowned at Feitan, nodding back in the direction of the group. The small man shrugged and sliced his blade across Shizuku’s leg. A section of her jeans floated down, landing beside the lifeless copy. 

“Gee, I like those pants,” Shizuku said from behind Chrollo. He smiled as she walked up and pulled Blinky out, smashing herself in the face hard enough to shatter her glasses. “There. That looks pretty good, I think.” 

“Yes. Someone still has to do Shalnark.” 

The manipulator looked up from his phone at the sound of his name. Phinks waved a hand at him and he shrugged, returning to his screen. 

“I’ll do it,” Phinks croaked, “I’ll just do his face, alright?” 

Chrollo nodded. “He should still be recognizable, of course.” 

Phinks crouched over the duplicate Shalnark and swallowed hard, winding his arm only a few quick times. He squeezed his eyes shut as he punched. The fake Shalnark’s bones cracked under his fist, his bloody skull squelching into the wet grass. Phinks wrung the blood from his hand and wiped himself clean. He looked over at Chrollo as though seeking approval, glancing back down at the ground as soon as their eyes met. Chrollo’s stomach churned. He could tell he’d asked too much—not just of Phinks but all of them. He should’ve asked Illumi to help with this part. 

“Aww, you barely scratched me!” 

Shalnark hopped up, inspecting his fake corpse carefully. He grinned at Phinks. The enhancer looked sick. Shalnark reached down and punched himself in the face, bruising his own chin. He kicked himself in the side, stepped on his arms, punched himself in the shoulders until even Feitan began to feel ill. He started laughing at some point, a horrible, hollow laugh that weighed the air down with dread. Chrollo touched his shoulder and he turned to meet him with tears streaming down his face.

“I should’ve been with him,” he whispered hoarsely. He fell against Chrollo’s chest, releasing one heaving sob before pulling himself together. Phinks tugged at his arm nervously. 

“C’mon, Shal, we’ve—you’ve gotta set up your toy, remember?” 

Shalnark nodded and wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked at Chrollo and smiled. 

“Hey, boss, can I hit yours?”

Chrollo blinked, startled. “Oh, okay.” 

The blonde walked over and kicked the fake Chrollo directly in the face. Feitan stifled a giggle, his eyes darting to the real Chrollo to see if he’d crossed a line. Chrollo couldn’t help himself. He let a laugh slip out, too. Once the laughter was out he couldn’t make it stop, doubling over in painful hoots of delirium as his bloodied corpse blurred before his eyes. Feitan snickered a bit and kicked the fake Shalnark, earning an offended yelp from the blonde. Shal jumped over and kicked Feitan’s corpse hard enough to crack one of the arms. Phinks winced. Feitan glanced up at him and gently touched his arm. 

“We really gotta go,” Phinks said quietly. He lit a cigarette, passing it to Feitan after a few puffs. The smaller man took a slow drag and nodded. 

“Yes, of course,” Chrollo chuckled. His sides ached, a combination of the laughter and his bruised ribs from the earlier fight. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the blood dripping from his fake eye socket. Shalnark sighed and walked over to Phinks and Feitan, checking something on his phone. Phinks squeezed his arm as he passed and he gave him a grateful look before heading inside. 

“Danchou,” Feitan said softly. 

Chrollo turned to look at the remaining pair. Phinks took the cigarette back from Feitan, tenderly wiping away a spot of blood that had splashed up onto his cheek. The small interrogator remained motionless. Chrollo sighed. 

“You’re right. Okay, let’s go steal this auction.”


End file.
